7 months in. Pregnancy has shown itself to be MANY things.
Pregnancy is… sobbing while taking your dogs for their night time walk because you realize you’re wearing high-quality, wing-tipped eyeliner that will take some effort to remove – making your bedtime routine longer – getting you to bed later. And bed is all you want in life.
Pregnancy is… feeling like Wonder Woman one moment and feeling like Slug Girl the next.
Pregnancy is… weekend dates with your husband – so you can coach him through the realities of labor & delivery. He’s going to do great. Especially if we get him a doula.
Pregnancy is… back pain. And doing acupuncture for the first time #praisethelordfortinyneedles
Pregnancy is… struggling into your skinny jeans post acupuncture – realizing only after you’ve successfully put them on that you were not so successful. They are on backwards… And like hell you are going to go through the strenuous effort to right THAT wrong #backisthenewfront
Pregnancy is… thrifted, hand-made, knit, baby cardigan finds for $1.99.
Pregnancy is… having your clutch stuffed to the brim with tums and mint gum.
Pregnancy is… your husband wrapping you in an embrace and assuring you this IS hard work and you are doing a wonderful job. Again, and again, and again, and again…
Pregnancy is… weighing the pros and cons of leaving your dog’s poops sprinkled throughout your neighbourhood… Because you are SO over bending over. Cons: You’re a garbage human. Pros: ……………. Your neighbours might… like… poop?
Pregnancy is… explaining the miracle of life to a 4 year old. When asked, ‘but how does the baby get out?’, you told him that often, the baby comes out through a woman’s vagina. He looked at you with horror and disbelief and assured you that ‘no, that’s not possible, it’s too small’. Sigh* you couldn’t agree more.
Pregnancy is… lathering yourself in magical oils to prevent all the stretch marks. Because those boobs come with a price.
Pregnancy is… realizing that yes, you ARE having a baby because you just bought a carseat. The belly, the ultrasound, the kicks… can’t be trusted. But a carseat chilling in your house? That shit’s for REAL.
Pregnancy is… feeling stressed about your future and experiencing an identity crisis. Do you go back to work after baby? Where do you work? Full-time? Part-time? Who takes care of your spawn during this time? Who are you? Why did you think you were ready to have children? Also, definitely stress about this constantly and all during your final months of pregnancy and mat leave. And definitely let it spoil your mat leave.
Pregnancy is… when your tiny bae FREEZES whenever it’s father is hanging around or trying to cop a feel of the squirming man-child. He’s in the Jiu Jitsu Olympics one minute and playing ‘graveyard’ the next. You are unsure whether to be concerned the boy has no respect for his father or to be smug that the boy has no respect for his father.
Pregnancy is SO MANY THINGS. Some of which are great, exciting, and wondrous… and others which are horrifying, unfair and beastly. One more trimester to go – we’
At A Glance…
Weeks Along: 27
Cravings: Honey crisp apples. They are insanely satiating.
Hating: Being seated. Just ain’t enjoyable when you have to sit ram-rod straight to feel comfortable… obviously harshing my ‘cozy’ when watching Netflix.
Loving: Weekend ‘dates’ with my favorite sperm donor to talk about all things baby. It’s been wonderful, intentional time that helps both of us feel more on the same page, productive and connected. This is especially important for me as we don’t see each other 5/6 days out of the week due to his school and work schedule and I am gal who NEEDS designated together time. Because I like, care about our relationship and stuff.
Baby item: Baby bathtub insert. Managed to find one that wasn’t bright blue, pink or green. So SNAPPED IT UP. *Who decided that all babies/children loved/had to have garish primary colors?